


Bite Down, Stay Silent

by mockinrine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Public sex (kind of), Shameless Smut, Underwear as Casualty of Some Fine Ass Banging, Unrealistic Underwear Resistance, after the great war, risky sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 18:43:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12195531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockinrine/pseuds/mockinrine
Summary: Jon and Daenerys had been too tired to consummate their feverish desire the previous night. Dany's dreams had been plagued by dreams of him, of them, and all their exchanged touches. When morning came, it was too late to turn them in reality. In between tedious meetings, however, they decide to act out on these impulses, tucked away in some hallway opening, hidden by a curtain.





	Bite Down, Stay Silent

**Author's Note:**

> heyoooooo! i got no excuse for this, really. idk what the setting is, where tf they are, or whatever. this is just shameless smut. shameless and mindless. maybe there'll be an even more shameless continuation. who knows? enjoy this filth, ya vultures. peace.

The night before, they had both been too weary to share their bed for more than restless slumber. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen the devious gleam in his eyes as they trailed along the edges of her body when she was slipping into her silken nightgown. It wasn’t that she hadn’t captured his lips several times throughout that evening, her own growing puffy and sore from the strength of a kiss that clearly had demanded for more. In the end, the stiffness in their bones and the numbing of their minds had won out, carrying them both on the tides of slumber into a deep sleep splattered with the flashes of persistent nightmares and images of ardor borne from the longing of her flesh. And when dawn had cracked the skies open, it had been too late for anything more than a solace of the thumb over his cheek and a tender peck on her forehead.

Throughout the whole meeting that morning, filled to the brink with futile updates, bickers among their loyal advisors, and matters that could have oh, so easily waited out another hour, Dany was feeling the galling aftermaths of the heated dreams her mind had imagined the night prior, the ones whose fruition the rush of the morning had denied her. She was seated at the head of the table, Jon, somewhere to its left, luckily having no one occupying the only chair standing between them. Her eyes fixed him intently, trying to read into the creases of his face, to decipher what it was precisely that had him so clearly absorbed in his own thoughts as well.

 _Please be the remnants of the night,_ Dany thought, perhaps, selfishly.

As if summoned by the pleas of her thoughts, his head turned lightly, their gazes clashing, her heart skipping a fleeting beat. And when she watched him swallow a lump in his throat, her gut told her that her wish had been answered. He was probably growing hard by the moment, Dany pondered, allowing the breaking of their eye contact to glance down and take notice of the leg he had bent over the other knee, very likely for a tactical purpose. The thought added kindle to her frustration, her gaze shamelessly locked on an absent spot on his figure, her thoughts relaying all of the things they could be doing instead…

“Your Grace?”

Dany flinched lightly, a hastened gulp signaling to her the dryness of her throat. Wide lilac eyes found Tyrion’s face, a few eyelash flutters helping her regain some composure.

“I think that was enough,” she replied, however, in complete lack of knowledge. The last few details of the conversation had been completely lost to her, but she knew it was nothing of importance. It couldn’t have been anything of importance.

“So be it,” Tyrion chirmed, turning heel as the others in the room started to rise from their seats. “We will be on our way to the war council, then. Let us not keep our allies waiting for too long, lest we _want_ them to take offense and their ships back while they are at it.” He bowed, announcing his departure, and so did others, but Dany only had eyes for Jon. Much to their dismay, the chamber was not yet empty, Varys stubbornly deciding to stay behind with Missandei, the two people who would not make the transition into the another gathering.

She cursed internally, but then she saw Jon rise, strolling toward the exit and tossing over his shoulder a glance Dany could only define as provocative, stirring pleasant bubbles in the pit of her stomach. So, she followed, pardoning her exit with a dip of her head, fighting against the urge to betray her urgency by fastening the pace of her steps.

The door closed behind her as she stood in the emptiness of the hallway, her gaze searching _him_ out with a crease of her brow. She had only taken a few steps along the marbled floors when she felt his fingers curl around her hand, pulling her through the tangle of a bulk velvet curtain into his chest. A brief daze whirred through her head, her gaze lost in the darkness swirled in his irises, her body a puddle of affection and contentedness in the warmth of his arms, which were now locked around her in a firm embrace.

From the corners of her eyes, she noted where they were – in some arching of the hallway with enough space to fit precisely two people and a muddied window blotched by the years of relentless rains and winds, hidden away from the rest of the castle by the deep red velvet that cloaked the entrance.

There was no doubt in her heart that they were both chasers of the same goal, but only for a second, a brief second, she wanted to claim otherwise, if only to withhold some appearances of properness that did not, in fact, belong there.

“We have a meeting we must attend,” she said, tilting her chin to look up at him through thick lashes.

“That we do,” Jon attested, a small twitch at the corner of his mouth trailing a crack through his somber mask. “We have a few minutes to show ourselves, I believe.”

It was difficult for Dany to stifle the curling of her own lips that threatened to break through this façade which successfully roofed the scintillas of excitement brewed in her stomach. “Let us not keep them waiting for too long, then?” She failed. His face radiated from the smile that overtook his features and she was now beaming too, happily welcoming the warmth of his lips on her own, happily opening her mouth to welcome his tongue in a fray of their passion, happily letting his hands wander along her back and to her ass.

His fingertips dug into her buttocks and Dany sighed into his mouth at the frustration of the textiles standing against the proper feel of his skin. All it took was this to stir up the storms inside her again, to remind her of the longing with which she had drifted off to sleep that night, of the desire smoking through her heating skin, almost as feverishly as his. They were feral and hungry and long forgotten was the youthful sweetness of their playful smiles shared only seconds earlier.

Jon took a decisive step forward, shoving her against the wall, the impact tearing her lips off his own with a gasp of surprise. He wasted no time in pasting his mouth on her neck, plastering it with demanding kisses and Dany had to bite down on her lip, reminding herself of where they were and how even their ragged breaths were of great danger. Strangely, all it did was arouse her more, bringing a leg to hook around his hip as the rapidly forming wetness between her legs was growing increasingly more insistent.

His hand traveled to her ankle, gliding along her leg and lifting at her skirt in the process, exposing her skin to the coolness of the air. Suddenly, he stopped, pushing down at her leg, lifting his head and bringing his ardent wheezing by her ear. “Turn around,” he rasped, sending hot shivers down her spine.

They were clearly locked in agreement, resonating in their want, for Dany wasted no time in obeying, her frame shifting until her eyes saw nothing but the morose bricks of the wall and her palms felt nothing but their coldness. Curiously, she glanced over her shoulder, right when Jon hooked an arm around her waist, encouraging her to bend more. And when she did and when he rolled up her skirts, sustained by her crooked position, she understood why.

He pulled down at her smallclothes, now binding her knees together, and her teeth dug into the rosy flesh of her bottom lip, feeling the saps of her arousal trailing down her thighs. _Seven hells,_ she cursed mentally as Jon took his time to trail her legs, to knead at her rear. _Our time is short, Jon. Hurry up._ She didn’t know what she would do if Tyrion’s voice suddenly bounced off the walls without her having found her much needed release.

And again, as if their mind was one, she heard the unmistakable sound of the popped breeches and in the next second, Jon was inside her, forcing her teeth even deeper into her lip, a pitiful attempt at stifling the cry of relief and rejoicing that had almost broken through. Her palms slid lower against the wall as she continued to bend her frame even more, cursing at the smallclothes clinging to her knees that kept her from spreading them further as his cock started to ram in and out of her, plowing her, easily gliding in the wet tightness of her cunt.

She felt one of his hands on her chest, palming at a breast through the shielding of her dress. And when a small whimper bounced off her lips, it moved along her neck, two fingers slipping into her mouth and giving it something to busy itself to, to muffle her moans which desperately wanted to be heard.

Dany closed her lips around his fingers, teeth biting gently, leaving them to bask in the sounds of ragged breathings and muffled groans, of the sloppiness of their lovemaking as his cock stroked at the sweetest buds of delight inside of her. Bolts of pleasure relentlessly traveled through her bones, mouth watering around the fingers inside. His fingers were melting into her hip as they guided her body to move against his every thrust which brought him into the depths of her swollen cunt.

As her peak was reaching, it became nearly torturous to contain her whimpers and moans, which vibrated in her throat. She could hear Jon’s vocals of bliss turn into low growls in his chest, feeding into a mind numbing spiral of feral desire that demanded even more, that gave her legs the muscle strength to pull apart so strongly that the next sound to echo in the space hidden by the velvet curtain was the rippling sound of her smallclothes coming apart. Not that it mattered in the moment, when all Dany could feel was the gratitude of being free of their binding, able to spread more, to feel more of Jon’s cock as he drove deeper into her dripping core with brutish pumps.

Her orgasm crashed onto her at once, teeth biting hard into his fingers to keep the deep moan rattling her throat from breaking through. And only a few seconds later, she felt Jon’s weight as he crooked his frame over her, buried to the hilt in her cunt, trying just as hard to stifle his grunts of delight as he released hot splashes of his seed into her womb.

She felt the tingle of a bead of sweat that ran down her temple, dizzy from the intensity of her high which had made her see white in the darkness of her lids. Her pants had barely gotten the chance to cease when Tyrion’s voice suddenly boomed along the hallways.

“Has anyone seen our beloved rulers?” Frustration was apparent in his tone. “Lateness is proper only in some instances.”

The rest of his speaking became muffled as a brief surge of panic overtook her. She felt Jon pull out of her and her hand mindlessly reached toward her knees, freezing when her fingers did not feel any fabric between them. Quickly, she turned around, only to find, much to her horror, the torn smallclothes lying on the floor. With a gasp and eyes overshadowed by a scowl, she picked them up, gaze finding Jon’s with worry.

“Go change,” he hushed.

“That’s right,” she whispered back, feeling the tremors of nervousness. “Take these and hide them.” She dropped her rolled up smallclothes in his palms and, for a brief moment, basked in the amusement that was his expression, flushed and bewildered, as if he hadn’t just taken her in the most primal of ways in some hallway corner behind a curtain.

She peeked through at first, only stepping out when confirmation of no unwanted presences reached her. Once again, she had only managed a few steps when, suddenly, Tyrion turned corner, Grey Worm at his side.

“There you are,” he huffed, doing a frustrated hand gesture. “Our guests are growing impatient, Your Grace. Let us think of a believable excuse on our way to the meeting, shall we?” Dany’s jaw dropped, words freezing in her throat since none of them could piece together any rational or believable excuse. Blood boiled to a rise into her cheeks as she stood rooted on the spot for a moment, feeling nothing but the drip of Jon’s seed from her bare core, tingling her thighs in the foulest of ways.


End file.
